The First Page
by KKsaiyancat
Summary: If a Volcano erupted and your best friend died, you would probably do what I did and give up on life. But then I encountered someone that called himself a country.
1. Prologue

KK: ...I'm alive! I've just been...Really, really busy. Nose surgery, stupid sisters, family death. I'm ok, though! ouo -That aside, I have another OC (and if you've read some of my other stories, you know I only have two or three Hetalia OCs)! Who do they personify, you ask? The Island of Surtsey! Off the coast of Iceland, Surtsey was formed via an underwater volcanic eruption, and-Oh, you'll find out soon enough. This story is basically character development as well as a backstory for Surtsey, along with his connection to Iceland.

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><p><strong>Reykjavík, Ísland<strong>

**14 November 20XX**

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><p><em>"Sæll Surtr!"<br>(Hello Surtr!) _

These were the first words spoken upon the island awakening. Ah, of course. It was the 14th. The day he had been...Reborn. Sighing, the island personification looked over to the source of the voice. An elf with dirty blonde hair was smiling back at him. "Góðan daginn, Hrafnar. Hvað segirðu?" Surtsey mumbled back, finally pushing himself into a sitting position. Hrafnar let out a soft grin, "Mjög gott, takk!" He replied before taking off his hat and grabbing something inside. "Til hamingju með afmælið!" The elf laughed out, pushing a small box into Surtsey's hands. The island laughed, "Takk þér." He carefully opened the box, finding two items.  
><em>(Good morning, Hrafnar. How are you?)<br>(I'm good, thanks! [...] Happy Birthday!)  
>(Thank you.)<em>

A lava rock, likely from his island, and a small flag in the design of one of Iceland's possible flags. Surtsey smiled softly, looking from the gifts and then outside his window. _'Is Iceland here?'_ The raven-haired personification thinks. No sign of his 'brother' as of yet...Then again, his mainland friend had to manage the paperwork, not Surtsey. Looking back to Hrafnar, the island smiled once more. No need to get all sad right now.

The elf smiled before hearing something, apparently. Hrafnar suddenly sighed. "Ég verða að fara," he spoke and turned towards the door. Surtsey shook his head and laughed. "Sjáumst síðar," he replied as his Elven friend disappeared from his sight.  
><em>(I need to go.)<br>(See you later.)_

Lazily tossing himself over the bed, Surtsey walked over to the mirror. Ah, how odd he looked, compared to other Icelanders. Nearly gray skin and fluffy black hair. Not to mention those odd, red eyes. Grabbing a comb, the island ran it through his hair several times and grinned to himself. Sure, he missed the blond hair and blue eyes, but this look was...Unique.

A knock sounded on the door, but the red-eyed Icelander didn't bother to turn around. He knew who it was, just by the suddenly cold air. "Happy Birthday, Surtr." He heard the person say, warmth and love mixed in the normally cold-edged voice. "Thank you," Surtsey grinned, "Bror."

Iceland smiled back.

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><p>"It's really been 50 years," Surtsey mumbled, sipping the tea from it's cup. Iceland smirked, "51, actually. But who's counting?" Surtsey laughed, giving a playful punch. "If you want to be that specific, it's been 230 years." The black-haired teen replied.<p>

"231."

Surtsey let out another laugh, "Yeah, yeah. Don't be a show off!" Iceland rolled his eyes and poured more tea into his cup. "You came back, and that's what's important," the silver-blond murmured.

Surtsey hummed and closed his eyes. 231 years ago, he had met Iceland for the first time. And then 51 years ago, they were reunited. Those memories were both amazing yet tragic. The Icelandic island took a breath, getting lost in his thoughts.

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><p>KK: There we go! Prologue, to introduce a bit of information. Well, um, first chapter is good! If you like this, go ahead and review it or watch it or something; If you want to, that is. See ya in the next chapter!<p> 


	2. Chapter 1

KK: Hei, it's me again! Thanks to Winter break, we have our first main-story chapter. Thanks for reading the previous chapter, and here we go!

**AND FROM THE EAST COAST OF THE** **US**,** HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

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><p><strong>19 July 1783<strong>

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><p>Two boys with blond hair paused at a large rock, the shorter of the two breathing in the smog. "This is so weird," he murmured. "It's still all smokey." The taller of the two-only taller by about 2 centimeters-shrugged. "I highly doubt anything will really happen," he replied, "It's been over a month, so it's probably just...The weather."<p>

The shorter groaned, "You're no fun, Svartr." Laughing, the boy named Svartr shook the bag he had. "I can be very fun," Svartr snorted. The shorter, named Auðin, joined in on the laughing. Auðin picked up a small rock and ran ahead, signaling to Svartr that it was time to go home. Before running after his friend, Svartr looked up to the ever-darkening sky. No...This was surely normal.

...A brief knock rang out before Svartr opened the door to his house and carried the bag to a table. The honey blond quickly looked through the contents and decided on the smallest of the foods. A head poked out from a door and a small greeting was exchanged. "Is everyone still ok?" Svartr murmured, earning a shake of the head. The other person, Aleksej, briefly disappeared before coming out from the other room again. "The Danish fellow died. His sister and horse, too." Aleksej murmured. The lighter blond made his way over to the table and set down the small pot he had in his hands and took Svartr's snack. "All of them in one day?" Svartr asked, glancing down.

"Já. Íri wasn't 'round either," was the reply. Svartr bit his lip. Íri was Auðin's brother...If Íri was sick, Auðin could get sick anytime. No one had survived once getting sick...Not even the animals. Thank goodness they weren't getting sick extremely fast. Svartr himself had felt somewhat sick...No, he didn't need to think like that. Aleksej patted Svartr's back and disappeared into the other room once more. "Oh," Aleksej paused, "Pa said you need to head to the mill tomorrow." Svartr just stared.

...Svartr shrugged his shoulders and stretched, waking up to the ever-familiar smoke that covered the once grass-covered land. The 16 year old would have to skip the usual routine in order to help his father at the mill. Aleksej worked at the building too, but on various pots instead. On the bright side, that meant Svartr could pass by Auðin's field. Hopefully their two horses were ok. A lot of farm stock had died with the start of the smoke and Volcano the previous month.

The blond switched his clothes-no need to waste any water nor clothes-and made his way to the main room. Stretching again, the Icelander grabbed his breakfast and knocked on Aleksej's door. No reply, like always. Aleksej likely went to the mill already. "Well," the honey blond sighed to himself, "I guess I should just go." He paused, thinking to himself. _'Then again, maybe I should leave a note for Auðin in case he stops by,'_ went through his brain. Nah, it was ok. Auðin was probably already on his way to town.

Sighing loudly, Svartr grabbed his bag and filled it with semi-needed things. Swinging it over his should, the Icelandic teen left his house and took a turn, walking down the familiar roads of his home town. Through the smoke, over that one tree that was too big to remove. Oh, and stop by the farthest-out store in the town to sell one of Aleksej's pots. It usually helped with any needed money. They sold fine; apparently some had even been shipped to the mainland in Norway, or even Denmark or Sweden.

There were no pots for today, and it looked like the one from late June hadn't sold yet. That was to be expected, with this weather. Even if he didn't want to admit it, Svartr found the recent weather completely freaky. Bidding farewell for the day to the shopkeep, Svartr made his way to the mill and carefully placed his sack on top of a cabinet. "Pa," he paused, "I'm here. What did you need me for?" His father looked up, softly smiling.

"I just needed you to go and watch over the sheep again," the Norwegian man replied. He had moved to Iceland when he was younger with Svartr's mother. The blue-eyed blond didn't really know what happened to his mom, but Aleksej always said 'she was a horrible person'. Assuming she had passed, Svartr never bothered to questioned it.

"Ok, pa." Svartr paused, "I'll be back in at sundown." _Whenever that is. _It was getting harder and harder to tell recently. Oh well, the sheep needed tending to.

Svartr smiled back and made his way to the remaining sheep.

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><p>KK: Aaaah, something seems wrong with this but I'm still proud of it. Well, I hope you guys like it...! Review, favourite or follow if you like it, but that's obviously not necessary. So, see y'all next chapter!<p> 


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